


Once in Silence

by BeachBum3668



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29199627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeachBum3668/pseuds/BeachBum3668
Summary: Sometimes the course of true love doesn't run smooth. What's an extra-dimensional being to do when his favorite humans can't find their way?
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Once in Silence

**Author's Note:**

> These characters belong to ViacomCBS and were brought to life by the incredible talents of Jeri Ryan and Kate Mulgrew. No infringement is intended or profit made from this work. I'm just borrowing them for a bit and I promise to put them back when I'm finished. Whether or not they'll ever be the same again is anybody's guess. 
> 
> The title is from the classic song from the 1960 musical CAMELOT: I Loved You Once In Silence. Book and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner, music by Frederick Loewe. Original production, directed by Moss Hart with orchestrations by Robert Russell Bennett and Philip J. Lang, 
> 
> The only credit I have for the Seven-in-armor manip is Anne Black. If anyone knows more, please contact me so I can correctly credit the work.
> 
> M/NC-17. If you have a problem with two adult women in a committed, loving relationship then this is where you need to find something else to read.
> 
> Do not archive or repost without author's permission.
> 
> Feedback: As always, constructive criticism and comments are welcome.

_**Once upon a time in a quadrant far, far away…** _

“Dammit!” The mug flew through the air and smashed against the duranium bulkhead. Fortunately, the composite ceramic material didn’t shatter and the mug had been empty when hurled. No sense in wasting good coffee.

“She is the most infuriating, stubborn, pig-headed…pig-headed…BORG…in the galaxy!”

Kathryn Janeway paced furiously back and forth across the living room of her quarters. Seven of Nine, her Astrometrics officer, was a brilliant and gifted astrophysicist, tactician, engineer and mathematician but had the ability to spike her commanding officer’s blood pressure into the stratosphere faster than any other member of the crew.

Today’s blowup had begun innocently enough. Realizing that they were growing apart and uncomfortably aware of being the primary reason for it, Janeway had tried to bridge the chasm between them. The interaction had escalated until both women had stormed away from each other only just before emotions and tempers boiled over. Janeway couldn’t understand what was happening. Everything had been fine until Seven had tried to use her regeneration alcove as a data assimilation device and overloaded her cortical node. The resulting paranoid delusions had culminated in her strapping herself into the Delta Flyer and pointing it at the nearby graviton catapult in a suicidal effort to avoid dissection by the Federation and Starfleet. Only Janeway’s quick action of beaming aboard and reminding the ex-drone of the special bond that existed between them had kept Seven from killing them both.

Frightened by the emotions that conversation had brought to the surface, Janeway had sought to distance herself from Seven in the intervening weeks. Now Seven had been experimenting with intimacy in the holodeck; forty-nine hours in six days. She’d been absent from her post and missed critical analyses because of it. And Seven of Nine was never absent from her post and never missed critical analyses. Janeway had called her into her office to discuss the problem and for the first time in the nearly four years Seven had been with them she had lied to her captain. She’d told Janeway that she was working on a new graviton array. Janeway knew very well what Seven had been doing on the holodeck; she’d reluctantly used command override to verify the programs and the knowledge that Seven was lying hit her like a sucker punch to the gut. She knew then that something had to give. So the moment she’d dealt with Q Junior and sent him back to the Continuum she’d tried to reconnect with the young woman. And failed utterly. That realization brought her up short.

She didn’t understand why Seven would lie to her. The young woman had been assimilated by the Borg as a child of six and was twenty-four before Janeway had severed her connection to the hive mind and started her on the rocky road back to humanity. It was natural that at some point on that journey hormones would kick in and Seven would begin to explore the concepts of love and sex. Janeway was delighted that she’d tried it in the holodeck before attempting to… what was it Seven always said?... copulate with another crewmember. No broken hearts and emotional outbursts if a relationship crashed in the holodeck. It was a logical and intelligent means of exploring a difficult and complex emotional state without risking another crewmate’s feelings. Why would Seven be ashamed of doing so? And why wouldn’t she trust Janeway enough to tell her the truth?

She resumed her pacing trying desperately to figure out another means of reaching out to Seven. Surely if she examined Seven’s recent behavior she could decide what to do to reconnect. Why it was so important to her to do so was the one thing she steadfastly refused to analyze. Exhausted by the exchange and the surging emotions it had provoked she headed for her bedroom and some much-needed sleep.

Stubborn, pig-headed Borg!

* * * * *

  
The furious look on Seven’s face as she stormed along the corridors back to Cargo Bay two kept even the most stalwart of her crewmates from speaking to her. Assimilation was too ready a possibility to risk it.

Captain Janeway is the most infuriating, stubborn, pig-headed…pig-headed… WOMAN… in the galaxy!

Why had she persisted in demanding information on Seven’s holodeck program? She had researched it thoroughly in the database of Starfleet regulations: all crewmembers of Starfleet vessels (civilian contractors included) were entitled to holodeck privileges unless under disciplinary penalty and were entitled to accrue holodeck time. Seven had merely utilized her accrued holodeck time as was her right as a crewmember. Even the captain of the vessel did not have the right to demand information on the nature of the program Seven had been running. That was also in the regs. So why had the captain persisted in doing so?

Granted, Seven had fallen asleep in the holodeck once and not heard her COMM badge the first time it chimed. She understood the concept of sleep but had never actually done it. So she had failed to take adequate precautions to alert her in case of emergency and had been late to her duty station as a result. The captain was overly concerned with the lapse in her behavior and pursued the reason for it despite Seven’s assurances that it would not happen again. She kept demanding information until Seven had been forced to do something she had never done in the nearly four years she had been on Voyager: she had lied. Lied to the one person on board that she had vowed to serve with every fiber of her being.

Why, oh why had Captain Janeway continued to demand information? The realizations that Seven had come to in the holodeck were disturbing enough without having to reveal them to a superior officer. Especially that superior officer!

She swept into the cavernous Cargo Bay she called home and sealed the doors behind her. As per protocol, she notified the bridge that she had done so. In an effort to give Seven some privacy while she regenerated, access to the Cargo Bay was restricted between 2200 hrs and 0600 hrs if Seven was in it. During those hours she had the right to seal the bay doors and only a request from the bridge, a red alert or a command override from the Captain could open them.

Bringing up her personal logs she reexamined them yet again. And yet again the conclusions were unchanged. The physical collapse sparked by the neural inhibitor could be resolved simply by its removal. The EMH had already said he could do it. But the other…. Seven badly needed advice and she hesitated to ask her usual source. Voyager’s Emergency Medical Hologram had taken it upon himself to teach Seven about social interactions. While the EMH was sentient, his holographic emotions were in many respects as undeveloped as Seven’s and the results of his lessons were unsuccessful more often than not. She had utilized the EMH’s advice regarding her one disastrous date; asking his advice on a related subject did not seem the wisest course of action. She had downloaded 30,000 gigaquads of data on the subject of human mating and still could not discern any logical parameters by which to judge what she had discovered in the holodeck.

But there was one slim possibility. It was a mark of just how desperate Seven was for information that she was even considering asking their feisty chief engineer. Lieutenant Torres had threatened to break her nose when she’d caught Seven taking field notes on her interactions with Lieutenant Paris. The two had since married and were expecting their first child in three months. But Torres had been kind and sympathetic to her when her cortical node was failing and it appeared that she would die. Perhaps it wouldn’t be impossible, merely difficult and decidedly uncomfortable.

“Computer, locate Lieutenant Torres.”

“Lieutenant Torres is in the Mess Hall.”

“Is Lieutenant Paris with her?”

“Negative.”

Steeling herself for the encounter, Seven spun on her heel and headed for the Mess Hall. If she was at all lucky it would be empty except for her quarry and they could speak privately. If not, well, Seven was prepared to invite Torres back to the Cargo Bay if necessary. The frustration that churned inside her brought her thoughts back to the diminutive commander of Voyager.

Stubborn, pig-headed woman!

* * * * *

_**Somewhere in the Q Continuum…** _

“Q? Where are you? You need to see this!”

“See what, my love? Have the Borg finally learned to dance?”

“No, dear, not yet; but your favorite humans are at it again. Here, let me play it back for you.”

Q sat next to his wife and watched the replay in growing dismay as Seven and Janeway clashed and stormed off in opposite directions.

“What are we going to do about those two?” Q asked her husband. “They’re both floundering around with no idea what’s really going on. If they’d just stop bumping heads and start bumping bootys they might get a clue.”

“I thought we’d decided that a non-interference policy was the best thing. Well, you decided for us after I tried to mate with Kathy.”

“I had to make sure you were over her. She is somewhat attractive for a mere human. But we owe her for what she did for Junior. Nobody in the Continuum could have straightened him out the way she did. Even you admit that. We need to lend a hand.”

“And how do you propose to do that? Ride in like a knight in shining armor on a white charger and smite them with a magical sword that suddenly opens their eyes to the truth? Throw them back in time to where Seven was forced to rejoin the Collective and let Janeway be chivalrous and rescue her again?”

“Knights in shining armor? Chivalry? White chargers? Q, you have got to stop watching those History Channel reruns. They will rot your brain. I repeat: we’ve got to help those two out.”

“I’m all for it, my sweet, but how? Humans are so touchy about their courtship rituals. We can’t just zap them into a room together and tell them to mate.”

“Give me a nanosecond or two to come up with a plan.” Q suddenly leaned back against the sofa with a twinkle in her eye. “You know, you men are all the same whether you’re human or Q. You never listen. Even to yourselves.”

“Oh? I assume this means you have formulated the perfect plan?”

“I have. And it was your idea.” Q smiled because she knew he was hooked. “You said it. What better environment for a starship captain to admit her love than a castle with chivalry and knights and fair maidens? Throw in an evil villain or two, a bit of magic, some court intrigue and the setting’s perfect!”

“Ah, I see. You’re right, my dear, Caerleon is perfect!”

“What did I tell you about those History Channel reruns? They won’t have a clue if you use the old English.”

“Very well then; Camelot it is.”

* * * * *

_**Meanwhile, back in that far away quadrant…** _

Seven strode purposefully into the Mess Hall. Her quarry sat unaware of her, quietly reading on a sofa in front of the large view ports. Voyager’s Chief Engineer was six months’ pregnant and the bulge in her abdomen was already making sitting a dicey proposition. Her naturally volatile temper was not helped by the physical discomforts her pregnancy was causing and Seven took a deep, steadying breath before approaching the short but stocky officer.

“Lieutenant Torres, may I speak with you?”

The Klingon hybrid gestured to the seat next to her with a small smile. The two women had never been friends, and Torres had openly despised the Borg when she had first come on board. But time and experience had taught her that Seven was a loyal officer and the dignity with which Seven had faced her impending death earlier that year had gone a long way toward softening Torres’ attitude. Recently, they had actually been cordial.

“What’s on your mind, Seven?”

“I recently spent some considerable time in a holodeck simulation and I am disturbed by the results. I have no one with whom I can discuss the situation and I need a source familiar with human emotions.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I was researching…love and romance. I built a holographic construct of Commander Chakotay and attempted to explore romance with it.”

Well aware of the excessive time Seven had spent in the holodeck but not the reason, Torres couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Chakotay? I didn’t know you found Chakotay attractive. How long has this been going on and why didn’t I know about it?”

Seven looked down at her clasped hands uncomfortably. “One of the discoveries I made during my research is that I am not attracted to the Commander. But I began with a construct of him because he is considered a ‘catch’ and I wished to experiment with romance and attraction.”

“Okay,” B’Elanna returned hesitantly, “so you discovered you’re not attracted to Chakotay. What else did your research show you?”

“I… discovered… that there is an individual on board… that I find… extremely… attractive. And that is where I become confused.”

“What are you confused about?”

“My attraction is toward… another female. Hence you see my dilemma.”

“Why? Is she involved with someone else?” B’Elanna was beginning to be a little confused herself.

“No, but she is female. Human pair-bonding are male/female. I don’t understand my attraction to another female and do not know how to go about correcting the situation.”

“Seven, hold on a minute. Why do you thing it’s not okay to be attracted to another female?”

“When the Doctor began giving me lessons in the social skills we dealt with human pair-bonding quite frequently. They were always male/female. That is the primary nuclear family grouping and essential for the procreation of…”

“Whoa! Back up a minute, Seven. First of all, while you’re correct that the majority of human couples are male/female, it’s perfectly acceptable for a couple to be two females or two males. Since genetic researchers learned how to cross-fertilize ova in the 21st century two women can conceive a child together. And two men can co-father the same fetus with a donor egg; so a male/female pairing isn’t essential to procreate. I don’t know what the doctor was trying to pull in his ‘lessons’, but he certainly seems to have left out some important facts in your education.”

Seven was stunned at this news. “Do you mean that it is socially acceptable for me to have a romantic attachment to this…woman?”

“Of course it is. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. Is that what had you so confused?”

“I… yes, it was. You have been a great help to me, Lieutenant Torres. Thank you. I have a lot to think about.”

Maybe it was the hormone overload of the second trimester of pregnancy that did it, but for only the second time in nearly four years, B’Elanna felt a kinship with the aloof and detached former drone. Impulsively, she reached out and touched the biometric mesh hand beside her.

“Seven, if you’ve found someone you can be happy with then go after them with everything you can. Anyone worth a damn would be proud to be with you.”

Seven found herself at a loss for words at this unexpected kindness. Not knowing what else to do she rose to leave. “I… thank you, Lieu --, B’Elanna. I will consider the matter carefully. Good evening.”

“Good night, Seven. And good luck.” The former Drone nodded and gave Torres one of her small smiles. From anyone else, it would have been a face-splitting grin.

Moving at a quick walk Seven left the mess hall headed for Sick Bay. I must consult with the Doctor. And he has a lot to answer for.

* * * * *

“Are you absolutely certain about this, Seven? I can’t help but think this has been a hasty decision on your part and you should think more about the implications of it.”

“I do not wish to discuss it further. I have found the person with whom I wish to enter into a romantic relationship. I cannot do that fully unless the neural inhibitor is removed. You said you could perform the procedure. Perform it. Now.”

“But Seven… ”

“No, Doctor. You have caused me enough distress with your half-truths. Now that I know why my research never yielded positive results I wish to correct the problem. You will remove the neural inhibitor.”

“Very, well. Let me send a memo to the Captain that you’ll be out of commission for a day or so and we’ll get started.”

“I do not want Captain Janeway notified of this procedure.”

“But, Seven, we’ve always let the Captain know about your medical conditions. She’s very concerned that you’re in the best of health.”

“Nonetheless, I wish to be accorded the same confidentiality every crew member is entitled to. Do not notify her.”

Feeling his heart break a little more every moment the EMH sighed heavily and motioned her onto his surgical biobed. “All right, Seven. We’ll do it now.”

* * * * *

_**Same quadrant, several hours later during the gamma shift…** _

“Red Alert! Red Alert! All senior staff to the bridge!”

The first thing Tuvok and Chakotay noticed as they burst out of the turbolift was that the main view screen was down. Tuvok moved immediately to the Tactical station as Chakotay leapt onto the command deck and barked “Report!”

Harry Kim, who had been in the command chair for gamma shift, was now at the Ops console frantically running scans. A sheen of sweat on his forehead evidenced his panic and he nearly stuttered as he began to explain the alert.

“We were on course traveling at warp six. All of a sudden there was a huge burst of light on the view screen and it went down along with all the sensors. No turbulence, no energy waves, no evidence of explosion; nothing that we picked up on sensors. No spatial or temporal anomalies. Nothing. But when we got the sensors back online… something was really, really wrong and I sounded the alert.”

“What’s wrong, Ensign?” demanded Chakotay as Tom Paris came out of the turbolift and headed for his station at the helm, saying quietly “B’Elanna’s in engineering,” as he passed the First Officer.

“I’ve just about got the view screen…there! Let me get it on screen.”

Everyone on the bridge swung to face the forward view screen and stood in shocked amazement at the image it displayed.

“Harry, verify that!”

“I have, Commander… three times. We are in orbit around EARTH. We’re home, Commander!” Harry’s grin nearly eclipsed the bright light of the all-too-familiar planet around which they were in orbit.

“Your excitement may be premature, Ensign. Sensors indicate that the planet beneath us is indeed Earth, but no technology signatures are apparent. Temporal readings indicate a time frame in old Earth standard of early 6th century AD. This is not the Earth we know.”

Chakotay glanced around the bridge and frowned slightly. Tapping his COMM badge he hailed the captain. “Bridge to Captain Janeway…” No response. “Bridge to Captain Janeway.” Nothing.

“Computer, locate Captain Janeway.”

“Captain Janeway is not on the ship.”

He swung his gaze to the Tactical station and nodded as Tuvok headed to the turbolift, hailing his elite security team and ordering them to the captain’s quarters. Chakotay moved his gaze between Harry and Tom. “Tom, I want sensor sweeps of the planet’s surface: scan for the captain’s biosigns! Harry, scan the entire ship. Look for any energy signatures that might indicate how the captain was taken and where she went. Now, Ensign! And locate Seven of Nine while you’re at it. She’s supposed to be here too.”

In a moment Harry said “I’ve got Seven of Nine, sir. She’s in Sick Bay. Nothing so far in terms of energy signatures.”

“Stay on it, Ensign. I want to know how the captain was taken off this ship. Chakotay to Sick Bay.”

“Sick Bay, here Commander. Why the red alert?”

“We’re encountered some sort of spatial or temporal anomaly and the captain is missing. What’s Seven of Nine doing down there during a red alert? Was she injured in some way?”

“No, Commander, I’ve just finished a bit of minor surgery and am bringing her out of the anesthetic now. She’ll need to regenerate for a few hours before she can be cleared for full duty though.”

“Keep me posted, Doctor. I need her on the Astrometrics sensors ASAP.”

“I’ll see if I can get her back on her feet more quickly, Commander. Sick Bay out.”

“Harry? Tom? Have you found the captain yet?”

Paris ran his hands through his sandy blond hair in frustration. “I don’t know, Commander. There’s no energy damping field that I can find, no weapons signatures, no ion trails or energy signatures, no atmospheric radiation; but I’m having a hell of a time getting readings from the surface. Our sensors aren’t working on the planet but I can’t find a reason why.”

“Tuvok to Chakotay.”

“Go ahead Tuvok; what did you find?”

“Captain Janeway is not in her quarters, however there is evidence that she was. Her bed has been slept in. There is no sign of a struggle. There is, however, some evidence of what we are up against.”

“What is it, Tuvok?”

“I suggest we not discuss this on an open COMM channel, Commander. I will report to the conference room immediately. My security teams have begun searching the ship.”

“Very well. Chakotay out.”

“Commander? The Astrometrics sensors just came online. Seven’s activation codes were used.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kim. Bridge to Astrometrics.”

“Seven of Nine here, Commander.”

“Has the Doctor briefed you? Are you recovered enough to scan the planet for the captain?”

“I have recovered adequately to run sensor sweeps. But I will require a regeneration period if I am to do any physically demanding tasks. I am currently attempting to configure my sensors to pick up the captain’s biosigns on the surface. There appears to be some variant of a polaron field shielding the planet; source unknown. I will need some time to analyze the field’s energy signature before I can scan.”

“Could you use some help?”

“Lieutenant Torres’ knowledge of field dynamics would shorten the delay if she is available.”

“Chakotay to senior staff. Lieutenant Torres, report to Astrometrics on the double. All senior staff meet in the conference room in thirty minutes. Chakotay out.”

* * * * *

_**Thirty minutes later in that same quadrant…** _

“What have we discovered? Seven? Have you found the captain?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Torres and I were able to configure the Astrometrics sensors to partially penetrate the polaron field surrounding the planet. Our scans will improve as we fine-tune and adjust the sensor settings but we have preliminary results. The captain is being held in a cell below ground level in a medieval… castle.” She looked at B’Elanna who continued the report.

“You aren’t gong to believe this, but we’ve scanned the entire land mass and verified it every way we can. This is Camelot, folks. King Arthur is on the throne, there’s a Round Table and there are Knights of the Round Table. From what we were able to gather scanning conversations around the castle keep, the Queen, Guinevere, was captured with her lover, Sir Lancelot. He escaped, but she was arrested and tried for treason. She was convicted and will be executed four days from now. The captain is in the cell with her.”

“But how did she get into the cell with the Queen?” asked Tom in disbelief. “We haven’t found as much as a single quark to indicate how the captain was transported to the planet surface. No ion trails, no residual radiation…nothing!”

“We think we know how she got there. This was found on her pillow when security searched her quarters.” The First Officer tossed an ancient-looking parchment onto the table and everyone crowded closer and craned their necks to read the intricate writing on it:

**In days of olde when knights were bold**

**And phasers weren’t invented,**

**With swords they’d slash**

**And shields clash**

**So evil was prevented.**

**In Arthur’s realm on Lance’lot’s helm**

**Your ‘queen’s’ fate now depends**

**To burn at stake**

**Or rescue take**

**It’s up to you, my friends.**

**Why play at knight and with sword smite?**

**You ask and I’ll reveal;**

**Your Captain’s heart**

**‘S been torn apart**

**But now perhaps may heal.**

**There’s only one amongst your crew**

**Who can effect her rescue**

**Her heart’s true love**

**Must rise above**

**To fight evil’s host in virtue.**

**Have fun kids!**

**Q**

“Q! Why am I not surprised? He’s messing with us again!” growled B’Elanna.

“Yeah, but the captain’s really gone and we have to get her back so we’re going to have to play his game, aren’t we?” said Tom.

“We’re going to have to figure out what the parchment means. Is it some kind of riddle?” asked Harry.

Tuvok’s analyses were always succinct and to the point. “The parchment appears fairly straightforward. Given that we have ascertained the castle below us to be Camelot and the time to be the end of King Arthur’s reign, the ‘queen’ of ours it refers to must be Captain Janeway. We know she is imprisoned in a cell with Queen Guinevere. It would seem that unless we rescue the captain she will be executed along with the Queen in four days.”

“I’m a little rusty on the Arthurian legend, Tuvok. Was Guinevere executed?” asked Tom.

“No, she was to be burned at the stake but was rescued at the last moment by Sir Lancelot her lover. Apparently we are going to have to do his part and rescue them both.”

“Yeah, we understand that. But what’s all this about ‘There’s only one amongst your crew, who can effect her rescue, Her Heart’s true love, Must rise above, to fight evil’s host wi’ virtue’? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The rhyme indicates that the captain may harbor a romantic attachment to someone on board. Apparently, only that person will be able to rescue her,” said Tuvok in an even voice.

“Yes, but who is it?” asked Neelix, their Talaxian morale officer and unofficial Ambassador. “How will we know?”

The staff looked uncomfortably around at each other. Finally, Chakotay broke the silence.

“It’s me,” he said rising to his feet, “Ever since we were quarantined on New Earth we’ve had an understanding. She and I have been…well, let’s just say that we’re more than Captain and First Officer when we’re in her quarters.”

The quiet shriek of crumpling duranium turned every head in the room to look at Seven of Nine as her Borg-enhanced left hand continued to crush the PADD it held. B’Elanna’s raised eyebrow was the only indication of the realization that just hit her. She now had a pretty good idea to whom Seven of Nine was attracted, and it certainly wasn’t their burly First Officer.

“You lie,” snarled the former drone, “Captain Janeway does not feel a romantic attachment to you! You are not the “one” mentioned in the poem! You will fail to rescue her. What’s worse, you will waste precious time while you do!”

The dark flush that suffused Chakotay’s face indicated his displeasure with Voyager’s Astrometrics officer. “Seven, we’ve all made allowances for you because the captain wanted us to. But you will accord me the respect that is my due as First Officer of this vessel and you will not speak to me in that manner. It’s no business of yours what kind of relationship Kathryn and I share. That is a private matter between the two of us.”

“Captain Janeway has spoken with me about your time on New Earth several times. She speaks frequently of her relief at being able to leave the planet and return to Voyager. She speaks of your friendship while on the planet. She has never spoken of copulation on the planet.”

Growing even redder in the face, Chakotay slammed his hand on the table and roared, “That’s enough! One more word out of you and I’ll have you confined to quarters!”

B’Elanna leaned over to Seven and placed a calming hand on the former drone’s arm. “Seven, settle down. It won’t do the Captain any good for you to piss him off and get yourself thrown in the Brig. What’s gotten into you, anyway?” She could feel the coiled tension in arm under her fingers, but Seven managed to refrain from baiting Chakotay again, at least for the moment.

Tuvok stepped easily into the silence and in his logical manner proposed that they have an alternative plan in place in case Q had arranged unknown pitfalls for them. Chakotay reluctantly agreed with the idea and Seven, realizing that B’Elanna was correct, volunteered to monitor the away teams via the Astrometrics sensor arrays.

An hour later all was in readiness. Chakotay had been outfitted in appropriate period garb and weapons; his tunic and leggings concealing a COMM badge, tricorder and phaser. Tuvok and the four-man security team were similarly outfitted and standing by in case another team was needed on the planet surface.

“I’ll bring her back by dinner time,” Chakotay claimed as he nodded to the watch officer. He vanished in the sparkling blue ions of their transporters.

Seven was monitoring the transport from Astrometrics. Five minutes later, Tuvok’s COMM badge chirped.

“Seven to Tuvok.”

“Tuvok here. Is the Commander safely on the surface?”

“He is certainly safe from mischief for the time being. The Commander transported directly into the guardroom of the Castle. He was immediately accused of sorcery and is being held in a cell not too distant from the captain’s. The guards are currently discussing on which day his execution should be held. Lieutenant Torres is running diagnostics on the transporters.”

“Was there a malfunction? The transporters had been programmed to beam him into a clearing in the forest approximately ten kilometers from the Castle.”

B’Elanna chimed in. “No, Tuvok. The transporters are working just fine. All diagnostics check out. Our transporters did beam the Commander ten kilometers from the Castle, but before his beam could materialize it was deflected into the Castle. Q has to be responsible.”

“Perhaps that is the litmus test of the captain’s love. All pretenders will beam directly to the Castle to be taken prisoner.” Tuvok had secretly agreed with Seven when she challenged Chakotay but had wisely kept his mouth shut and had pressed for creation of his Plan B in the event she was right. Tuvok’s long friendship with Janeway had made him more aware of her moods and emotions than anyone else on Voyager; he had long suspected that the captain was in love with Seven of Nine. She wouldn’t dream of admitting it, but he recognized the signs well enough. And after her display in the conference room earlier, the Chief Tactical Officer realized the feelings were mutual. The Vulcan security chief could only guess at the reasons behind Chakotay’s insistence of his right to attempt the captain’s rescue, but it was obvious to Tuvok that Seven would have to be their designated knight in shining armor.

“If that is the case, then we must begin to implement our alternative plan. I will beam down with the security team. If we are immediately captured, at least whoever is the captain’s chosen rescuer is will have some additional manpower on the surface. Lieutenant Torres, you have the conn.”

“Aye, Tuvok. Are you and the away team ready to beam down?”

“We are, Lieutenant.”

“Seven and I are monitoring from here. Good luck, Commander.”

“Energize!” Seven and B’Elanna huddled over the console display screen studying the readouts. Two minutes later, Torres slapped the console and swore.

“Dammit, they got them all! All five members of the security team taken at once!”

“B’Elanna, they had no choice. They were beamed into the middle of a company of guards practicing their sword skills. They were surrounded the moment they rematerialized.”

Torres now looked at Seven with an appraising eye. “So, have you regenerated yet? If you’re going to rescue the captain you’re going to need to be at 100%.”

Seven looked down at the monitor screen and continued to scan the Castle silently. B’Elanna moved next to her and spoke quietly. “You know, you’re not the only one who’s had a few late-night talks with the captain. I’ve watched her around you and others. She’s different around you. And it’s not just because she feels some sort of weird maternal bond because she severed you from the Collective, either. She cares a great deal for you, Seven. I’m willing to bet the captain’s life on you. Why aren’t you willing to? Where’s that Borg arrogance when we need it?”

“I am afraid, B’Elanna. Afraid that I will fail her. What will happen if I do?”

“Well then, at least you’ll die together. C’mon, let’s get you regenerating. I’ve got a couple of ideas we can try before we send you down there that might help you out and I’ll need a few hours to work on them.”

* * * * *

“Regeneration cycle complete.” Seven opened her eyes to the smiling face of Lieutenant Torres as she disengaged from the contacts and stepped off the dais. “I take it from your expression we have had some positive news since my cycle began?”

“I believe we have. C’mon to engineering, I’ve got a few things to show you. And a couple of tests we ran came up with some results I think you’ll be interested in.”

Inside engineering, crew hustled around the room under the commands of Lieutenants Karri Jameson and Susan Nicoletti. Jameson was overseeing power enhancements to Voyager’s transporter system and Nicoletti’s minions were huddled over some device Seven didn’t immediately recognize. B’Elanna walked her over to the grouped officers. When Seven saw what they were working on she froze.

B’Elanna had anticipated this response and gently touched her arm. “I know,” she said so softly that only Seven could hear her. “But he sacrificed himself so that you and Voyager would be safe. The captain wanted to make sure that he could continue to protect you if possible.” Seven looked at Torres with uncomprehending eyes. B’Elanna tried once more, gently shaking the former drone’s arm. “Seven, none of us could use any of his technology; only your system is compatible. Captain Janeway wanted to make sure that we could protect you as much as One did.”

“When…when did you…?”

Torres said gently, “The Doctor and I removed the devices before we buried him. And now he can protect you again. If you’ll let him.”

“Explain.”

“You know that Petty Officer Quintano’s left arm is cybernetic, right? Well, I continued our scans while you were regenerating and Quintano’s arm is still fully functional. So cybernetic technology critical to survival will continue to function properly on the planet surface even when our weapons and armaments won’t. I’m thinking that if we integrate these two implants into your existing Borg technology they’ll work down on the planet surface too. This one is One’s shield generator and this,” she said pointing at the smaller device, “is the power enhancer from his personal transporter.”

“The shield generator I understand, but why do you wish to implant the power enhancer?”

Susan Nicoletti spoke up. “We’ve made a couple of small modifications to it. Once it’s integrated into your implant, we can use it to monitor you. We’ll be able to track you and maintain at least a minimal transporter lock on you. We were thinking that we could add the power enhancer to your bicep implant and the shield generator to your hand. That way, you’ve got easy control access to the one you’ll need.”

“Very well, Lieutenant. Proceed.” Nicoletti picked up a hypospray and injected it at the edge of the starburst implant on Seven’s right bicep. The area surrounding the implant immediately went numb and Torres took a laser scalpel and delicately cut one ‘ray’ of the implant from Seven’s flesh. Nicoletti slipped the small power node under the skin and when it was in place, Torres touched the control node of the implant with a microfilament probe. The implant immediately regenerated a new ‘ray’ and seamlessly implanted itself into Seven’s skin. The process was repeated in the biometric mesh of her left hand.

“One thing you have to remember; you no longer have the enhanced power node you used to. So the shield generator will only work for a couple of minutes before it runs out of juice. One could recharge it from his central power nodes, but you can’t. So don’t use it until absolutely necessary.” Torres patted Seven’s Borg hand and fussed with the dorsal filaments.

“Yes, B’Elanna, I know.” Seven quirked the corners of her mouth up in what, for her, was a huge smile and commented, “I would suggest you practice your mothering skills on your husband and his sidekick Ensign Kim. They are in far greater need of them than I.” Nicoletti let loose a single guffaw before getting control of herself and backing hastily away from her volatile boss as B’Elanna flushed crimson.

“You know, Seven, some day you’re going to be six months pregnant with your hormones raging like a warp core breach and I’m going to be the one laughing. You’ll be lucky if you don’t assimilate everyone around you!” But her ready grin and the clap on the back she gave Seven convinced everyone nearby that she was laughing too. “Now, let’s get you outfitted and on your way down to the surface.”

They stopped in Sick Bay where Tom and Harry were waiting with period clothing and weapons. Seven donned rough cloth breeches and hide boots, a softer undershirt and outer tunic. She strapped a long knife and sheathed sword to her belt and carried a sturdy staff as a walking stick.

“Well, you look as authentic as we can make you. Good luck,” said Tom as he and Harry headed for the Astrometrics lab to track her progress. The EMH only muttered under his breath.

“Doctor, you are sniveling. Cease it at once. When I return you can stimulate my hair follicles to grow again.” Much to the EMH’s dismay, the first thing Seven had done to get into her role was to crop her thick blond hair. The second thing she had done, with B’Elanna’s help, was to don a highly restrictive sports bra to minimize the curvature of her abundant bosom. There was no way she could pass for a man otherwise.

B’Elanna finished her briefing as they walked to the transporter room. “You’ve just finished a full regeneration cycle. You should be good for 72 hours, which is just about all the time you have until Captain Janeway and the Queen are to be executed. You should be able to stretch that if you try to sleep and eat as often as you can. The captain is being held in the south dungeon; Chakotay, Tuvok and the security guys in the west dungeon. Tom, Harry and I will be scanning you constantly; we’ll try to keep a transporter lock of some sorts on you. Get in, spring the guys, get the captain and get out.”

“Yes, B’Elanna. I know the plan. I have an eidetic memory, remember?” The former drone’s amusement at Torres’ continued worrying was evident and she used it to disguise her mounting anxiety. Not that she would fail in her mission, but that she would succeed. And have to face the feelings both she and Captain Janeway had hidden away for so long.

As Seven stepped onto the transporter pad, B’Elanna fired one parting shot with a wicked grin. “Just remember, if you do manage to rescue the captain, Neelix will want to invite the whole crew to the wedding shower.” Seven’s eyes popped wide in terror as she was engulfed in the sparkling blue ions of the transporter beam.

* * * * *

She rematerialized in a small clearing of an ancient wood. For reasons totally unknown to her, snippets from Longfellow ran through her mind. “The forest primeval…bearded with moss and garments green…stand like Druids of eld…” Shaking the thoughts away, she glanced up at the sun, compared the position to her internal chronometer and began walking in a northerly direction toward the castle.

She had no set rescue plan, but because she had nearly three days before the scheduled executions, she had hoped to enter the town surrounding the castle and gather more current data before formulating one. She knew enough of the ancient legend to know that Lancelot, the Queen’s lover, would mount a rescue shortly before she was to be burned at the stake. Since their data indicated that Captain Janeway would be executed in the same manner and time, Seven had hoped to glean the details of Lancelot’s plan and join it if possible. In the event she could not locate his cadre of knights, she had reviewed everything the scanners had uncovered while she regenerated and had a good idea of the layout of the keep and the location of the cells she would need to access.

She moved quietly through the dense forest, even as she reviewed the data in her mind. Borg-enhanced hearing was picking up the sounds of wildlife moving through the undergrowth around her and she had tuned the worst of it out when her ears picked up the sound of quiet speech somewhere to her left. She froze and sent a command to her optical array to switch to infrared mode. Moving slowly and silently toward the sound, she identified three human heat signatures in a sheltered copse; two of normal intensity and one noticeably cooler. Seriously wounded, she thought, hemorrhagic shock. Probably fatal in this age. Switching her optical array back to normal mode, she moved closer to the hidden clearing to listen.

“My lord, we cannot stay here. We are still too close to the castle. Mordred’s men will still be searching for you.”

“Mordred will not risk what few men he holds loyal searching for me. He knows I must rescue the Queen and he will concentrate his forces there where he can control the battleground. We are safe here for a while, Bors.” The voice was firm but Seven could discern a flash of weakness in it. The speaker was lying on the ground wrapped in a fur-lined cloak with two other men sitting near him, their horses unsaddled and tied to nearby trees. “Lionel, have we news of Sir Ector or Sir Kay? Galehaut is with us, but we need more men if we are to rescue the Queen.”

“My lord, we know Sir Ector set out for Camelot the moment he learned of the Queen’s imprisonment. Sir Kay was with him. But the forest folk have seen naught of them since. And how can you speak of rescuing the Queen, my lord? You cannot even sit your horse!”

“We will think of something. Providence will show us the way, Bors. Mordred must be stopped or he will bring down the King, but Arthur cannot put aside his guilt and deal with Mordred as he must. In his stead, those of us loyal to him and the Round Table must do so. Have faith, Bors.”

At this, Seven stepped into the clearing and stood watching the men. The wounded knight saw her first and his stunned look of disbelief caused his companions to leap to their feet, drawing swords as they did so. Seven stood her ground but shifted her weight in case she had to defend herself.

“What sorcery is this? Speak, wraith or die!”

Seven spoke in her quiet voice. “I am no wraith. I seek the castle Camelot. My captain is imprisoned there, to be burned for sorcery. She is innocent and I must free her. I have no quarrel with you.”

“He lies, my lord! A female captain? This is madness! And see, it wears evil charms on its face! Let us kill this wraith now before more evil is done!”

The wounded man struggled to raise himself. “If you are no wraith then who do you hold as liege-lord? Who do you and your captain serve? Speak quickly or my knights will slay you.”

“I have no liege-lord. Neither does my captain. My loyalty is given only to her; Kathryn Janeway. I have no fight with you, but I will defend myself if need be.”

“A renegade captain? A female? There is none such in the kingdom! My lord, he makes no sense!”

Reluctantly, the wounded man agreed and his two knights began to circle Seven. She kept her sword sheathed but swung her staff up and settled into a fighting stance. When the attack came, it came from both sides but Seven was ready for it, her staff spinning and landing heavy blows to both men. Twisting and pivoting, she continued to rain blows down as they slashed and struck at her with their swords. The men wore hauberks and chausses covered with long tunics and while they were obviously used to moving in their chain mail, their movements were slower than Seven’s. Chain mail might prevent a sword thrust, but it could not protect against snap kicks, round kicks and debilitating hits with the hardwood staff. In less than two minutes both men were prone on the ground, disarmed and cradling painfully bruised limbs, torsos and heads.

“Well done, sir. You are victorious. If you choose to kill us as is your right, I beg a clean death for Bors and Lionel. They did only what I bade them and they should pay no price of pain for their loyalty. Do with me what you will.”

In reply, Seven reached down and helped the two would-be assailants to their feet. Making sure that none of them could reach their weapons, she questioned the wounded man.

“I said before I had no quarrel with you. Nor do I now. But neither do I have time to waste. What is your name?”

“I am Lancelot du Lac, son of King Ban of Benwick, Knight of the Round Table and Champion of Queen Guinevere. These are my cousins and liege-knights, Bors and Lionel.”

“You are the Queen’s lover! But how?…the legend says...” Seven realized her mistake and quickly reviewed the speech idioms of the time. “It has been foretold that you will rescue the Queen from her pyre. But you are wounded. Tell me truthfully; can you ride? Can you fight?”

“Reveal nothing, my lord!” cried Lionel, “This demon has been conjured by Morgause and Morgan to thwart our plans!”

The continued antipathy of Lancelot’s cousins began to irritate Seven. Turning quickly toward them she snapped “Why do you continue to caution your cousin against me? I have been courteous and shown no aggression toward you.”

“But,… b-but look at you! You must be a demon! You are the twin of…”

“Silence, Lionel!” snapped his shorter and stockier brother. Seven started in surprise at his tone and walked closer to the wounded man. As she saw his face her eyes widened and the fear radiating off the men was explained. Had Seven of Nine been a man and had black hair, she would, indeed, have been the twin of Lancelot du Lac. Right down to the shade of blue eyes and the slight cleft in the chin.

“There is no sorcery that I know of. I am as human as all of you. Sir Lancelot and I are very close in appearance only by coincidence, not design. But the similarity in our appearance may help both of us accomplish our goals. I propose we work together to rescue your Queen and my captain.”

Lancelot exchanged looks with Bors and Lionel. The silence stretched on and Seven became impatient. “Will it help in your decision-making if I surrender my sword?” Bors and Lionel seemed to take this as a good sign until Lancelot said wryly “He did not require a sword to vanquish you both. Or have you forgotten so soon?” Swinging his gaze back to Seven he said, “But an…ally…who can defeat two fully-armed knights with merely a staff is an ally to be valued. An ally with whom and from whom there can be no falsehood.” He slowly extended his hand and Seven shook it.

“Since it was my party who attacked first, allow me to begin. I am dying.” Bors and Lionel began to vehemently argue at these words, but Seven merely rolled the wounded man over and examined his back. The blood seeping slowly from the bandage there was nearly black. Gently, she rolled him back and nodded in agreement.

“The wound has penetrated the liver. It is…mortal.”

“And now you, my new ally. How are you called?”

Seven debated how to answer and decided that complete honesty was probably the best idea. “My name is Annika Hansen, Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01.”

Bors and Lionel again began arguing loudly. “Annika is a woman’s name! A Saxon name!”

Lancelot silenced them again with, “Yes, and the woman who defeated both of you very handily. I don’t believe her gender affects her ability to fight, do you? From where do you journey, Annika Hansen?”

Seven turned to the unhappy men and tried to explain. “My parents were from…Saxony…but left many years ago. We were captured by a…tribe…called the Borg when I was eight and lived with that…tribe…for eighteen years until Captain Janeway rescued me. I owe her my life and my freedom. I will gladly give both to save her.” Looking pointedly at Lancelot she finished, “My friends call me Seven.”

Capture, rescue and a debt of honor were things these men could understand. Although they had never heard of a tribe called the Borg, the emotion in Seven’s eyes as she told of her life indicated the truth of her words. As the newcomer answered questions from Bors and Lionel, Lancelot formulated his plan.

“Mordred expects me to rescue the Queen, but I will be dead before she mounts her pyre. Annika… Seven… will wear my armor and lead the rescue. With a coif and helm her hair will be hidden. But the jewelry on your face? It can be removed?”

“No, it cannot. But perhaps they can be talismans against black magic? Surely those would be accepted by the fighting men.”

“We will tell anyone who needs to know the truth that Annika has been sent by the Lady of the Lake to aid in the Queen’s rescue. That is why she looks so much like me and why she wears the Lady’s talismans against evil and….deceit? Perhaps that will keep our friends honest, eh?”

Seven fidgeted uncomfortably. “Lancelot, I am willing to take part in your plan, but you must know, I do not know how to ride a horse.” Truth be told, the large creatures made her a little nervous. Very nervous, actually. And since the Borg were never terrified, well, very nervous would have to do.

Lancelot realized her fear and gently touched her hand. “Do not worry, Seven of Nine. We will teach you what you need to know. We have three days until the executions. I will not live that long, but Bors and Lionel will make a knight of you. The first thing you need to learn is how to wear mail. It will slow your movements and take some getting used to…” As he spoke, Bors and Lionel gestured for Seven to strip off her tunic. Clad in her undershirt and breeches, they showed her how to wear and fasten the knee-length hauberk mail shirt, the chausses (mail leggings) and the coif and hood. Seven walked around the clearing and came to a fast realization. She might be completely armored, but she could never fight like this.

“Lancelot, This mail is too cumbersome. I cannot learn to fight well enough in it in the time we have. I will wear no armor and fight in my normal manner.”

“You must wear some armor, Seven, or you will never convince anyone you are me.” The men discussed the problem for a while and decided that a modified mail suit might work. Lionel was dispatched to the ville to obtain the necessary articles. While he was gone, Bors got Seven up on Lancelot’s horse to practice. After a few minutes he turned to his liege-lord, shaking his head. “She was right. She can’t ride. This will never work.”

“Bors, she needs to ride only well enough to get her into and away from the castle. We know Seven can fight on foot. Once you get inside the keep she can dismount and rescue the Queen. What she needs to be able to do is mount and dismount quickly. Practice that.” He smiled fondly at the large black warhorse. “Concorde knows his business. He will see to it that she stays in the saddle when she needs to.”

Seven began climbing into and out of the large saddle. Once she was comfortable in doing so, Bors had her move the huge warhorse around the clearing using only her legs to guide it. Seven’s first attempt wasn’t what could be called successful. She was so nervous she forgot her Borg-enhanced strength and squeezed the horse so tightly with her legs that it began to wheeze and stagger in a circle. A conscious effort on her part allowed her to relax her grip and she and the horse began to work together. By the time Lionel returned with the bundle of chain mail, Seven could guide Concorde with both hands free. She was still cautious on the horse, but she had begun to trust him as the men did and was beginning to sense how he would respond to her commands.

Lionel unfolded the bundle he’d retrieved from the ville and showed Seven the modified armor it contained. Instead of the heavy knee length hauberk, it held a shorter haubergeon that came just to the top of her thighs. Instead of the chain chausses, a pair of leather breeches and stout leather boots. “They won’t protect you like the chausses would, but it will at least require a direct stroke to pierce them,” explained Lionel. “With your cuirass, shield and sword she should be able to pass as you, my lord.”

Seven walked into the woods to change into them. The knee-high boots and leather pants were heavier than she was used to, but far superior to the chain mail she had been wearing. The haubergeon and Lancelot’s cuirass allowed her enough freedom of movement that she felt confident she could fight in them. The mail coif and helm she would wear only as they attacked the Castle keep.

She returned to the clearing to see Bors and Lionel building up the fire. The tried to get Lancelot to eat something, but he could manage only a thin broth. His face was pale in the firelight and a sheen of sweat glistened on his brow. Seven could hear him straining to breathe evenly. He may not live through the night, she thought sadly.

Lancelot died at dawn the next morning. He had been growing weaker throughout the night but summoned all his strength to advise Seven on the best way to gain entrance to the castle keep and rescue Queen Guinevere and Captain Janeway. As the plan was finalized, Seven could detect his life signs weakening. He gathered Bors and Lionel close beside him and demanded that they witness what he did next.

Grasping Seven’s sword arm with all his remaining strength he stared directly into her eyes and rasped, “I require your blood oath. Swear to me that you will carry out the Queen’s rescue and I will have Bors and Lionel swear fealty to you. Refuse and you will die.”

Seven’s eyes were steady as was her voice. “I swear on my honor, I will rescue your Queen Guinevere and my Captain Janeway or die in the attempt. I take this oath freely and without reservation.”

At a look from Lancelot, Bors and Lionel dropped to one knee, placed a hand on their sword grips and swore to aid and defend Seven in the rescue attempt. That done, the three of them gathered close to the dying man.

“There is only the end game left for Guinevere and me. The Queen will wish to enter the convent at Amesbury. Seven, Bors…when you flee Camelot with the Queen make your way to Avalon. The Lady will protect you and see the Queen safely to her cloisters. Lionel, I ask you to bury me at Benwick where we were boys together. The Lady will also help with that task.” He grasped the hands of Bors and Lionel and pulled Seven’s onto them. “I charge you with the life of the woman I love. Get the Queen to safety; far from the clutches of Mordred. I hold you to your oaths.” Exhausted, he lay back, drew one final, shuddering breath and died.

Seven helped Bors wrap the body in cloaks while Lionel brought a small cart from the ville. Reverently, they placed Lancelot in the cart, hitched Lionel’s horse to it and wished him well, promising to meet again in the cloisters of Avalon in three days. As Lionel left the clearing on his tragic journey, Bors and Seven mounted and turned in the opposite direction toward Camelot.

* * * * *

Hooded and cloaked, they made their way through the ville to the public house. As they entered the smoky room, Bors threw his hood back and moved quickly to a small table in a dark corner. Seven kept her cloak and hood drawn close and stayed back in the shadows. They had just received their mugs of beer when two tall, black-haired men entered and looked around the room. Spying Bors they came to the table and silently indicated two more mugs to the innkeeper. Nothing was said until the additional drinks were delivered and once the innkeeper had returned to the bar, Bors leaned forward and said quietly, “What news from the castle, Gawaine?”

The big man looked steadily at Seven and said nothing. Bors glanced back at his companion and then returned his attention to Gawain. “Do you wish to ask something, Gawaine?”

“Who is this you travel with? It is not Lionel and it cannot be Lancelot. I saw him struck down by Mordred’s men. I saw him rise again, but the wound he took would have felled him by now. ”

“This is…Hansen, known as Seven. Sent to aid us by the Lady of the Lake. Lancelot trusted…him. Lionel and I have sworn fealty to…him.”

“I do not trust your Lady of the Lake. Nor do I trust the hesitation in your speech. Show yourself…Hansen, or we leave now.”

Seven flipped back the hood of her cloak and leaned forward into the dim light. Gawaine and his brother Gareth both drew back sharply and made a sign against enchantments.

“What sorcery is this?” hissed Gawaine.

“No sorcery that you need fear if you will aid us,” Seven said quietly. “But we have little time to waste with those who hinder us. I am Annika Hansen, here to rescue your Queen and the woman who will burn beside her.”

“You are here to rescue the sorceress?”

“No, I am here to rescue my captain and liege, Kathryn Janeway. That she is condemned with the Queen only means that we will rescue them both.”

“The sorceress who appeared in a fiery flash in the Queen’s cell? Twin to the Queen with deep red hair? She is your captain and liege? She a twin to the Queen and you a twin to Lancelot. This is magic the likes of which we have not seen since Merlin’s day.”

“It is our day, not Merlin’s. Will you aid us or not?”

“Yes, we will. Our brother Agravaine has taken leave of his senses and is allying himself with Mordred to bring down the King. We are loyal knights of the Realm; we must stand against them.”

“What do you know of Mordred’s plans?”

“The Queen is very popular and Mordred has been too blatant in his treacheries toward her and the King. Arthur has asked Gareth and me to guard the execution to prevent mayhem. To that purpose, we were summoned to Mordred’s rooms and given the plans for the execution. We are sworn to stop Lancelot from rescuing the Queen.” He looked straight into Seven’s eyes. “But you are not Lancelot. We have taken no oath to stop you from rescuing your captain or the Queen.”

Gareth leaned in and joined the talk. “I ventured into the woods late last night and spoke with the chief of the Old Ones. He said that Sir Ector and Sir Kay were but three hours’ ride from here. The Old Ones will see that Ector and Kay arrive at the appointed place in time to help you. Gawaine and I will see to it that the troops with us in the courtyard are loyal to the King and will offer minimal resistance to your rescue. But it will be best for all if you create as much confusion and riot as you can. The more mayhem is about, the easier it will be to conceal the women and spirit them from the keep.”

“We will have King’s men on the southern sally port. The portcullis will be raised and the winch jammed to keep it open for you. Mordred will have his men on the battlements. Once you secure the Queen and your Captain Janeway you must flee the castle as fast as you can ride. Do not wait for the other knights and your men. We will delay pursuit as long as we can. That is the best aid we can give you.”

Seven and Bors looked at each other and nodded. “It is enough. Between the knights we have rallied to the Queen’s cause and your help inside the castle, we will succeed.” The three men nodded and Seven continued. “Gawaine, I have one more favor to ask. Several of my men have been captured and are being held in the west dungeon. I want to free them to help us.”

“The six sorcerers who magically appeared in the barracks and the keep? That will be no problem, they have been condemned. It will be a small matter to have them transferred to our barracks for….archery practice? Can you get a wain and meet us inside the west sally port in an hour?” Bors nodded and the four of them drained their mugs and left the inn. They walked to the stables and clasping hands, each pair took leave of the other.

An hour later, Bors and Seven were dressed in dirty and ragged clothes and driving a large wain into the west port of the castle. Bors halted the huge draft horse in time to hear shouts and scuffling noises coming from an open gateway. Soon, a dozen of the dungeon guards dragged Chakotay, Tuvok and his security team, trussed like turkeys, into the courtyard and unceremoniously tossed them into the straw in the back of the wagon. As the last man was thrown in, Gawaine came striding out of the gate.

“You there! Do you know where to take these men? The Orkney barracks. Deliver them to the archery lists so the new conscripts can practice. When they’re finished, take the bodies into the woods and burn them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, m’lord,” mumbled Bors humbly.

“Then away with you! My men are waiting!” Gawaine gestured angrily and stormed back into the castle.

Bors snapped the reins and started the horse and wain back out of the open gate. Half an hour later, the wagon had cleared the ville and was deep in the woods. Seven swung her legs over the seat, drew her knife and began cutting the cords that bound the men. Never had she been so glad to see members of Voyager’s crew; even Chakotay. Bors drove the wain to the hidden glen where those knights still loyal to the Queen were assembling. Once there, Seven briefed the Voyager team on the plans to rescue Janeway and the Queen. Tuvok offered several suggestions that were added to the overall plan.

Seven watched as farmers and laborers went about their daily tasks. To keep her from physically confronting Chakotay in her anxiety for Kathryn, Tuvok asked her to walk with him to a nearby cave. On the way, they noticed some farmers pouring urine on a compost heap. Seven wrinkled her nose at the odor as the two continued up a hillside to the cave.

Inside, Seven’s nose was again assaulted, this time by the stink of rotting eggs. She glanced around at the water leaching from the rock face and forming yellow mineral deposits and looked at Tuvok. Vulcans do not display emotion, but even Tuvok managed to convey that the stench was too strong to tolerate for long. She indicated her willingness to leave with a nod of her head in the direction of the cave opening. On their way back to the encampment, Seven asked the farmers what they were composting.

“’Tis is a nitre-pit, m’lord. We’re making saltpeter to help crops grow.” Seven thanked him and the two Voyager officers continued on their way.

Suddenly. Seven pulled up short, her eyes wide. Unthinking, she grabbed Tuvok’s arm. “Saltpeter, the cave…” She glanced wildly around toward the smithy where the charcoal-makers were hard at work. Tuvok watched her patiently. Seven of Nine was extremely logical in most circumstances and would tell him what she was thinking when she was certain of her facts.

“Tuvok! Get the security team. I have an idea.” Quickly she explained her thoughts. Saltpeter, sulphur, charcoal. When she finished speaking Tuvok cocked one eyebrow.

“Impressive. Let’s get started.” They rounded up Voyager’s officers and gave them their instructions. The men fanned out through the encampment and set to work. With everyone busy, there was nothing left to do but wait.

* * * * *

Of all the things I’ve seen in my life and all the places I’ve been, dying like this definitely takes first prize as the most bizarre, thought Kathryn Janeway looking around the straw-lined cell. Since awakening here three days ago, there had not been one single moment which had not seemed surreal. She glanced up at the narrow seam in the wall where daylight would soon begin to filter in. Once it did, her time on the mortal plane would be measured in minutes. She had no idea how she had even been transported to this time and place…if she even believed she was where they claimed.

She’d gone to bed after her argument with Seven. Sleep hadn’t come quickly, but it had come. She fell asleep in her quarters on Voyager and woke up in a dungeon cell in the castle Camelot looking at a woman who, except for blond hair, could have been her clone. The Janeway look-alike introduced herself as Guinevere, wife of King Arthur and Queen of the Realm. Janeway could only stare dumbstruck.

Her arrival in the Queen’s cell had caused a major uproar. In addition to the charges of high treason the Queen had already been convicted of she was now also charged with witchcraft. Janeway had been dragged before a thoroughly unpleasant young man named Mordred, questioned half-heartedly and summarily condemned to die for sorcery alongside the Queen. Janeway had been hamstrung in what she could say. The Prime Directive had been written for an instance precisely like this. There was no way Janeway could risk contaminating the culture of her own planet almost eighteen hundred years in its past.

So she sat, waiting for her crew to find her and get her back to the ship. She knew that while Chakotay would most likely adhere to Starfleet standards, Tuvok and Seven would never allow Voyager to leave her behind. She just had to figure out how to stay alive long enough for them to find her. The Queen, for her part, seemed content with her fate. The King’s bastard son, Mordred, had caught her in flagrante delicto with her lover, Lancelot. Lancelot had been wounded in the ensuing fight but had escaped. Infidelity on the part of the Queen was High Treason and Mordred had wasted no time in convening a court to try and convict her. But Guinevere had said with absolute certainty that as long as Lancelot drew breath he would not allow her to die for their love.

When Janeway had asked why the King did not step in Guinevere had explained why he was helpless to intercede. Arthur created a realm based on the rule of law, not the rule of arms. In this realm, might did not make right, might fought for right. And the law said an unfaithful Queen was guilty of treason. Mordred hated his father and lusted after Guinevere and used her indiscretion to try and topple the King. Arthur’s hands were tied. He could not order the sentence lessened or he would undermine the foundations of his kingdom. No one knew this better than Mordred. All any of them could do was pray that Lancelot would succeed. Guinevere had total faith; Janeway wasn’t so sure.

She could hear the guards assembling in their anteroom. Glancing once again at the wall, the darkness appeared to have lightened a bit. Dawn could not be far off. The executions were scheduled to take place two hours after dawn. That way everyone will have time for a hearty breakfast before coming to the festivities. You don’t want to watch a human being burning alive on an empty stomach. God knows, I don’t want to burn alive on an empty stomach. Yesterday evening, a young guard who had always been kind to them quietly explained how the pyre worked and advised them to take deep breaths as long as possible. That way the smoke would render them unconscious before the flames reached them. Okay, important safety tip. I’ll be sure to remember that in my last moments of life. Janeway put her face in her hands and fought the urge to laugh hysterically.

Guinevere looked at her with a placid countenance. “Do not despair, Kathryn. If your men at arms are as loyal as you claim they will find their way to my Lancelot and rescue you. But even if they do not, Lancelot is a noble knight; he will not suffer a woman to die while he draws breath. You will be rescued with me.”

“I’m glad you’re so sure about this rescue. Personally, I’d give my right arm for a few phaser banks and a couple of photon torpedoes.”

“What is a…phaser bank? A photon torpeedoo?”

“Tor-pe-doe. They are types of arms from my homeland.”

“Ah, yes. The homeland to which you and your men are trying to return. I remember. You will get home, Kathryn, have no fear. But something else troubles you. Will you share it with me?” The Queen smiled and her eyes twinkled. “For if you are right and we are not to be rescued it would be a terrible thing to go to our deaths with unacknowledged regrets.”

Kathryn barked a short laugh. “You have a point. I have several regrets; none of which I can do anything about. But there is one I truly do wish I could change.”

“What is it, Kathryn?”

“I…care for someone. Very deeply. I’ve denied it to myself for so long I’d almost convinced myself it wasn’t true. But sitting here for the past four days with nothing to do but think,… how could I have been so stupid?”

“Why did you deny your love? Is it forbidden as mine was?”

“Not forbidden. There are no laws against it. But the tradition of my army dictates I cannot be involved with a member of it. I did not want to violate that tradition.”

“So you denied your feelings. For how long?”

“Nearly four years. I pride myself on my ability to control myself and make sound command decisions. But this person can infuriate me faster than anyone I’ve ever met. No respect for the chain of command. No respect for my rank or position. A fierce warrior, but with a gentle soul. Loyal even to death. Oh God, why did I ignore my feelings for so long? If I could just tell…just one more….” Janeway hung her head in despair.

“And what is your lady’s name, Captain Kathryn Janeway?”

Janeway’s head snapped up. “I never said it was a woman.”

“You did not need to. Again, what is her name?”

“Her given name is Annika. Annika Hansen. But she was captured by…barbarians…as a child and lived with them for eighteen years until I rescued her. They called her Seven of Nine and that’s the name she prefers. Seven.”

“So, does your Seven feel the same way about you?”

“I don’t know. She never challenges anyone else like she does me. So I know she feels something different about me, I just don’t know if it’s love. Or if it’s romantic love. She could love me like a mother or like a teacher.” Janeway flushed a little. “I’m…somewhat…older than she is.”

“The King is many years older than I but I loved him. I love him still. Age is no barrier to love. So there is no law forbidding your love and yet still you hesitated. Why is that?”

Janeway grinned at her cellmate. “You’re certainly on the mark with your observations this morning, Your Highness.”

Guinevere smiled back at her. “I am considered very astute in matters of the heart. It was only with my own that I faltered. Now, I ask you again; why did you hesitate?”

“Because everyone I’ve ever loved has left me by either death or desertion. But I care so much more for her than anyone I’ve ever met; if she left me I don’t know if I could survive it. I was afraid.”

“And now, Kathryn Janeway? If your Seven were to walk through that door and stand before you? Would you still be afraid? Would you still be silent?”

Janeway looked deep into her heart for the answer. “No, no I wouldn’t. I’d grab onto her and hold onto her for the rest of my life,” she said quietly.

“Then perhaps our time together here has not been wasted. Do not despair, Kathryn. Your Seven will come for you as my Lancelot will come for me. Have faith.”

A beam of sunlight shot into the cell from the rising sun. Not long now.

* * * * *

Gawaine strode around the central court of the Castle re-inspecting the arrangements for the execution. Two stout stakes were set in the middle of a high circle of faggots and logs soaked in oil. The circle was open on one side so that the condemned could be led into it, but stacks of wood were next to the gap so it could be closed once they were secured to their stakes. At Mordred’s command, the circle of oil-soaked logs would be set aflame and the executions would take place.

Gareth paced the perimeter of the courtyard quietly speaking with the guards there. None of them showed outward signs of fear or worry but all felt both in their hearts. No one except Mordred and the crazed Agravaine wanted to see the Queen die, but the law was the law. Not even the King was above it. His gaze swept along the throng of villagers that had crowded into the yard to witness the executions.

Gawaine and Gareth had placed their troops around the perimeter of the yard to contain the throngs of people crowding in. Mordred had stationed archers loyal to him along the high battlements in the event there was a rescue attempt. There was a balcony on the north wall overlooking the courtyard draped with the royal insignia. From there the King and Mordred would watch the Queen and Janeway die. A flutter of tapestry and Mordred and the King appeared.

Gawaine signaled Gareth and the guards to full readiness. He nodded to the chief gaoler and shortly the cadence of drums could be heard coming from the south postern gate. A minute later a phalanx of guards emerged from the gate surrounding two diminutive figures clothed in plain white shifts, their hands bound. The murmurs of the crowd increased in volume and Gawaine could sense their anger growing at the sight of their Queen so degraded. He moved quickly to the gap in the ring of fuel and watched as the executioner bound both women to the center stakes. Once secured, the gaol guards filled in the gap with the waiting faggots and logs and stepped away from the pyre. The executioner checked his fire-filled cauldron and the torches it contained then turned to face Mordred on the balcony. The driving force behind the condemnation of the Queen rose. The crowd held its collective breath.

“Guinevere, Queen of the Realm, you have broken your vows of fidelity. You have violated the oath of loyalty you swore to your King. You have committed adultery and in doing so, high treason. You have been charged, tried and convicted by a court of the Realm. The sentence is death. The vardøgr sent to aid you will also die. Executioner, do your duty.” Arthur, King of the Realm, buried his face in his hands and wept.

Where are you Lancelot…Seven? Gawaine glanced over as the executioner pulled a flaming brand from the cauldron and turned back toward the pyre. He took a single step and was felled by an arrow through the throat. Suddenly a huge blast shook the castle as a wagon exploded in the west sally port and the portcullis and postern gate were destroyed. The crowd screamed and began to scatter as horsemen rode into the courtyard. Ector, Kay, Galehaut and Cador of Cornwall charged in through the east portcullis leading a cadre of more mounted men and a company of foot soldiers against the guards. Seven, Bors, Bedivere and another company of men at arms swept into the courtyard from the south sally port and charged directly at the pyre. More explosions began to go off around the courtyard filling it with smoke which hampered the archers on the upper battlements. As they did, Sir Caradoc led a company of archers onto the upper ramparts to battle Mordred’s men.

As the mounted knights engaged the guards Tuvok, Chakotay and the Voyager security team entered the yard, each man carrying four small barrels of Seven’s concoction: black powder. They fanned out, dropping the innocuous barrels at strategic points around the yard, lighting the fuses and running to a new location. Mordred, enraged that his carefully laid plans had come to naught, grabbed the balustrade and screamed orders to the beleagured guards, spittle flying from his mouth.

Down in the yard, Gawaine peered through the smoke and saw his brother Agravaine grab a brand from the cauldron and leap toward the pyre. He tried valiantly to fight his way through the melee of guards, knights and terrified villagers but knew he could not reach his brother in time. Just as Agravaine drew back to ignite the oil-soaked wood, Bors leapt from his saddle and with one mighty swing, severed the arm holding the flaming torch. His next swing separated Agravaine from his head and the lifeless corpse collapsed. Gawaine felt a quick pang of regret, but knew in his heart that his brother was lost to them the moment he fell under Mordred’s sway.

He watched with relief as Lancelot…no, Seven, rode Concorde to the pyre and urged the huge stallion to force his way through the ring of wood. Once inside, Seven swung out of her saddle and drawing her knife, leaped toward the stakes to free the condemned women.

Guinevere’s face lit up at the sight of her beloved charging through the pyre to her rescue. But as the knight kicked free of his stirrups and slid out of the saddle she saw the metal on his face and hesitated.

“Lancelot?” she cried, but even as the words left her mouth she realized the terrible truth. Her companion’s gasping cry of “Seven!” sealed the horror in her heart. Their savior quickly cut their bonds and turned to face them.

“Captain, Your Highness, we must go now. I will explain when I can. But we cannot stay here if we are to get you safely away from the castle. Come with me!”

Needing no further encouragement, both women grasped Seven’s arms and allowed her to lead them through the smoke and out of the circle of wood. Bors, now mounted again leaned down to sweep the Queen onto his pommel when a guard hacked at his horse’s neck and the animal collapsed. Bors jumped free of his dying mount and killed the guard responsible.Concorde had disappeared in the melee and the four of them stood sweeping the yard for a means of escape. As they did, Tuvok and most of the Voyager security team ran up.

“Captain, we must leave immediately,” said Tuvok loudly, “I suggest the south sally port. It is closer to the extra horses we tethered outside the ville.”

“Where’s Chakotay?” yelled Seven over the tumult around them.

“Lieutenant Ayala is bringing him. He twisted his ankle in the assault.” Ayala arrived then, a supporting arm around Chakotay’s waist.

“This way!” shouted Bors but even as he turned toward the southern portcullis a guard loyal to Mordred hacked through the winch ropes crashing the huge gate closed. The group swung toward the eastern gate but realized immediately that there were too many troops fighting in that direction for a speedy escape.

As Bors hesitated Gawaine and Gareth ran up.

“Bors! Why do you delay? Get the Queen to safety!”

“We can’t get out as we’d planned! Mordred closed the portcullis too quickly!”

Gareth grabbed Bors’ arm and hissed. “Think, Bors! The other way; the secret way. Go! We will fight your rearguard!” Bors’ eyes gleamed in acknowledgement and nodding, he pushed the group to run not toward the sally port, but through the postern gate of the south dungeon.

Seven waited until they were clear of the worst of the fighting before questioning their direction.

“Gareth was correct. There is another way out. A secret way known only to the King’s closest confidants. Merlin’s gate opens into the ville from a hidden passageway off the south dungeon. The guards and villagers fear it thinking it haunted and avoid it at all costs. If we can win our way through the guards to the center of dungeon we can make our escape!”

They rounded a corner to be confronted by four of Mordred’s men. Seven, Tuvok and Bors charged into the group and quickly dispatched the men. They ran on, deeper into the keep. Two more groups of guards fell to their swords and they approached their goal.

“The passageway starts behind a false beam on the west wall…” Bors drew up short as they entered the guard room only to find a closed portcullis blocking their way.

“Quickly! Help me raise it!” cried Seven, moving to the grate and grabbing hold. She, Bors, Tuvok, Janeway and the security team lifted together and slowly the huge iron gate rose. When it was two feet off the ground Seven shouted to Ayala to get the Queen, Chakotay and Janeway under the gate. Janeway’s first instinct was to argue, but she realized that her strength would not be missed and so she let go and rolled under the gate without comment. One by one Seven sent their group under the gate as it slowly sank lower and she and the rest strained harder to hold it open. Those on the far side of the gate could not help lift it; sharpened bars of metal plated the prisoner’s side of ot. Grasping the grate there would slice a hand to the bone.

Finally, only Tuvok, Bors and she remained. The others had tried to prop the gate up with the wooden benches they’d found but the huge weight crushed them in moments. Seven and Bors looked at each other and once again, reached for the grate. As it slowly rose, Seven ordered Tuvok under it. He rolled through, barely missing the bottom as it crashed down once again.

Bors and Seven reached an unspoken agreement: only Bors could guide their group through the castle to the safety of Avalon. As Seven backed up to the grate and sent a command to her cortical node to release more nanoprobes, Bors leaned close and whispered harshly in her ear.

“There is still another means of escape. Merlin built it when he built the aqueducts of the castle. Fight your way to the western ramparts of the stable wing. It is closest to the river. In the center of the stableyard is a deep pool, fed by aqueduct from the river. At the bottom of that pool is a grate and an underground cave and stream that leads to the river. I will leave a mount for you at the cooper’s shop in the ville. Two miles out on the west road is a crossroads. There is a smithy there. Behind the forge is an ancient path; once on it, the Old Ones will guide you to Avalon. We will wait for you there.”

Seven nodded her understanding and replied only “Get the Queen and my captain to safety, Bors.” He nodded and dropped to the floor preparing to roll. Seven gathered all her Borg strength and pushed up with her legs. Straining with all her might she felt the huge grate move slowly upward, her arms and legs shaking with the strain. She heard Bors roll under the grate and when his yell indicated safety she let go and allowed the massive weight to crash back down. Panting, she turned to the others. It was at this moment that Kathryn realized that Seven would not be leaving with them.

Rational thought fled as she threw herself against the grate crying Seven’s name. Unthinking, her fingers sought, found and twined with Seven’s Borg hand.

“No! You can’t…there has to be a way…we’ll find something to…”

“Kathryn, hush,” Seven said quietly, her gaze locked on the gray-blue eyes of the woman she loved. “It is the only way. Bors will see you safely to Avalon. From there B’Elanna will come up with a means of transporting you back to Voyager.”

“I can’t leave you. You’ll be killed. I’m staying; I won’t…”

“Kathryn, think. Voyager and the crew needs you. Without you, they will never reach home. You must go.”

The strain of the past four days finally broke through Janeway’s defenses. Tears flowed freely down Kathryn’s cheeks. “I can’t! I’ve only just found you. I can’t let you go now.” Without thinking she reached out and cupped her hand to Seven’s cheek; the implant warm against her skin. Seven held the hand and leaned her cheek into the caress with closed eyes. She turned her head and kissed Kathryn’s palm softly as a single tear trickled from her eye.

“If you remember anything of my time on Voyager, remember this: you were loved, Kathryn Janeway. Deeply and forever. It has been the light of my existence to love you.”

“Oh, Seven, I love you too! I’ve been such an idiot. There’s so much I need to say, I don’t know…”

“Kathryn,” Seven interrupted quietly, “Kathryn, my love, you must go.” Seven’s enhanced hearing had picked up the sound of guards in pursuit.

“I can’t!” the redhead sobbed, “I can’t leave you!” Seven caught Tuvok’s eye and Voyager’s security chief moved forward and gently disengaged his captain from the grate. To his dismay, she collapsed, sobbing in his arms.

Seven summoned Bors without taking her eyes off Janeway. She slid Lancelot’s sword through the grate and into his hands. “Fulfill your oath and take your liege-lord home. Bury his sword with him.” Bors nodded silently, then turned and moved to a beam on the wall. Reaching around it, he pressed a hidden lock and it swung silently open. He hustled the Queen and their party into the passgeway but just after Tuvok handed the sobbing Janeway off to the Queen, the Vulcan spun and looked back at Seven.

“Live long and prosper, Seven of Nine. It has been an honor to know you.” He nodded once and turned back into the passage. Bors called out “Remember: the west stables; the pool. I will await you in Avalon!” And suddenly he was gone, the false timber closing behind him.

Seven reached down and picked up the swords of two fallen guards and turned to face their pursuers.

* * * * *

Late that night the exhausted party reached the shores of the lake they sought. Bors rang a bell in a small shrine and a few minutes later, the mists parted for the enchanted barge of Avalon. They silently boarded and the boat moved off, the veil of mists closing behind them.

On the island, they were greeted courteously by the Abbess of the religious group that lived there and shown to rooms where they could refresh themselves. The men were ushered to a barracks outside the abbey; the Queen and Janeway to rooms within. Bors had related the tale of Seven’s arrival and Lancelot’s death to her as they made their way through the faerie-ways to the shores of the lake but even through her grief, she felt Kathryn’s pain keenly.

Guinevere guided an unseeing Kathryn into their rooms. Gently the Queen and a novice stripped off the stained and filthy white shift. Together they sponged off the grime that covered her and dressed her in the clean, soft clothing that had been provided. The novice gathered their dirty clothing and left as another brought a tray of hearty broth and bread.

“Kathryn, you must eat. Seven will come. She is too resourceful to be bested by Mordred. You heard Bors, he told her how to escape the castle. She will come; you must believe that.”

Janeway just shook her head as more tears flowed. “I can’t. I just can’t. I’m all used up. There’s nothing left inside, just emptiness. I’ve lost her. I found her and I lost her.”

“Have faith, Kathryn, if not in Providence then in your Seven. Did she not organize our rescue with Bors and the Orkneys? Did she not show the men the mystery of the black powder? How can you think that one so wise could be defeated by Mordred? Have faith in your love, Kathryn. She will return to you.”

A loud knock on the door caused both women to look up. A breathless young woman entered. “The Abbess requires you. You must meet her in the courtyard. Another of your party has …” The rest of her statement was lost as Janeway rushed past her, upending the food tray. The Queen followed at a more sedate pace, a serene smile on her face.

* * * * *

Seven rushed through the archway into the small round room and whirled to face her pursuers. Five men at arms followed close behind and fanned out to bracket her. She was out of breath and fatigued by the hour of constant fighting she had endured. It had been three days since she regenerated and her nanoprobes were becoming overwhelmed by the demands on them. But she was close to her goal: through this room and up one more curving flight of steps lay the ramparts above the west stables. If she could only hold these men off she could make good her escape.

But then a sixth man crashed into the room. Shouting obscenities he ordered the men to attack and Seven realized that this must be the evil Mordred, the King’s bastard son. “Attack from behind your shields you fools!” he screamed, “Overwhelm him! He is only mortal! Kill him!”

SHIELDS!

Suddenly, Seven knew how to win through to the ramparts. Casting aside the sword in her right hand, she pushed firmly on a slight bump on the back of her left hand. Just as Mordred’s men leapt toward her, One’s multiphasic shielding powered up.

Their weapons glanced off the forcefield, each blow causing it to flash with a brilliant green light. It didn’t take long for the guards to scream “Sorcery!” and fall back from their attack, their fear of her outweighing their fear of Mordred.

“Sorcery, indeed!” she shouted. “Sorcery of the greatest kind! The Queen was endangered; the kingdom threatened! In his greatest hour of need, what protector would Arthur summon?”

The terrified men’s eyes widened even further as the whisper flew around the room. Merlin! Arthur’s teacher and advisor! Merlin, who had foreseen Arthur’s reign and engineered the circumstances of his birth! Merlin, greatest sorcerer in history! Merlin!

Instinctively knowing what to do, Seven yanked off Lancelot’s helm and pulled the mail coif off her head. The guards flattened against the wall in terror.

“It is Lancelot, but not!”

“The metal…the metal on it’s face!”

“It’s wounds heal themselves before our eyes!”

“It is a demon!”

Seven decided to end this now. “I am no demon!” she roared. “I am Seven of Nine, protector of the Queen and Guardian of Voyager; chosen of Merlin to defend the realm from traitors such as this!” she pointed her remaining sword at Mordred. “Retreat now or die! Right is not with you; might will avail you not! Justice will destroy you if you continue. Choose now!”

The guards dropped to one knee and laid down their arms. Mordred, sensing his loss of control burst through the kneeling men and swung his weapon at Seven. It too bounced off her Borg shielding and as it did, Seven unhesitatingly drove her sword through his heart with every ounce of her remaining strength. A quick wrench of her sword arm pulled the weapon free and Mordred sank slowly to the floor, blood bubbling from both his mouth and the wound in his chest. Giving one last, gurgling gasp he died.

The guards stared transfixed until Seven barked “Go! Now!” and they fled. Wearily she removed her cuirass and haubergeon and finally wearing no armor she ran up the steps and out onto the walls overlooking the west stables. She clambered onto the stable roof and stared down into the pool below. She could see the outline of the grate at the bottom.

She sent one last command for nanoprobes to her cortical node, took a deep breath and dove into the pool. At the bottom she dragged open the grate and swam down a carved passage under the castle wall and into a small cave. She spent several minutes there collecting herself and regaining some strength. From there she followed a trickling stream downward, crawled beneath the roots of an overhanging tree and tumbled into the river Cam. A short swim brought her to the riverbank near the west gate of the ville.

Hurrying through, she found the cooper’s shop and behind it, Concorde patiently awaiting her. She climbed into the saddle, spurred him into a canter and headed out the western road. She found the smithy without difficulty and the brush concealing the hidden path seemed to open at her approach. No sooner had Concorde entered the woods than the path closed behind them and two gnome-like creatures appeared in front of her.

“You are the one of whom the Lady of the Lake foretold. We have been waiting for you. Rest on your mount; we will guide you safely through the faerie-ways to the shores of Avalon.” Nodding her agreement, Seven leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Concorde’s mighty neck and promptly passed out. After what seemed only moments, they woke her.

“Here is where we leave you. Go through the leafy arch ahead and you will find yourself on the bank of the lake. There is a shrine. Ring the bell in the shrine and the boat will come, even though it is night.” Before she could thank them, they slipped off the pathway and disappeared into the woods.

A minute after replacing the bell in the shrine Seven could dimly make out a lantern approaching through the mist and darkness. Suddenly the mists parted and a barge bumped silently on the bank. She led Concorde onto it and just as silently it pulled away from the bank and re-entered the mists. In moments she saw the island before her.

As Seven walked toward the gate of the abbey she heard excited voices from near the stables. Looking in that direction she saw her Voyager crewmates, Tuvok and Bors all running toward her carrying torches. Well, most of her Voyager crewmates; Chakotay could only hobble along slowly, hollering for everyone else to wait. They clapped her on the back excitedly and congratulated her on the success of their escape. Lieutenant Ayala even hugged her. Bors didn’t say much, but his broad smile spoke volumes. Sir Lionel was there too, smiling and shaking her hand. Tuvok quickly intervened in the reunion, pushing Seven toward the abbey gates and telling her they would all see her in the morning; there was someone else who needed to see her now. Gratefully handing Concorde off to Bors, she headed toward the abbey and her destiny.

A novice carrying a lantern opened the gate for her and led her to the courtyard where the Abbess sat, waiting for her. She rose with a kind smile and said “Greetings Seven of Nine. I am Viviane, the Lady of the Lake and Abbess of Avalon. We welcome you and bid you to rest from your labors and heal your heart.”

With a graceful gesture she directed Seven’s attention to an archway through which Kathryn Janeway was running. Seven turned to greet her and Janeway flung herself into her arms. Seven could think of nothing she would rather do for the next several millennia than hold Kathryn tight against her, so she merely sighed and whispered “Thank you,” to the Abbess as her arms tightened around Kathryn’s shoulders. Viviane smiled and said merely “Nimuae will show you to your rooms,” and glided away into the abbey.

Seven didn’t remember greeting Queen Guinevere and describing her escape or walking to their rooms. What she did remember was being shown the ancient Roman balneum adjoining their sleeping chamber and kissing Kathryn as they tore at each other’s clothes. Once in the heated water, their hands could not be stilled nor could their lips. Their lovemaking was not gentle or sweet; it was driven by long-buried need, fear of loss and the nearness both had come to death that day. Hands grasped tightly, pinching erect nipples harshly to elicit gasps and moans of passion, teeth nipped and bit, bodies melded as each sought to assuage the emptiness they had lived with for so long. The velvet heat of Kathryn’s sex drove Seven to groan in awe as her fingers slid through the slick folds to find the core of her passion. Her fingers sought entrance and she revelled in the sobbed “Yes, oh yes!” her touch brought forth. She lost herself in the sensation of the woman she loved writhing against her as her need rose higher. For her part, Janeway could barely remember to breathe as her passion soared. Both women came together, instinctively knowing what the other needed.

At last Kathryn sobbed out her ecstacy and clutched Seven against her as the spasms swept through her and slowly abated. Feeling Kathryn climax against her brought Seven to her own peak and the lovers collapsed together against the side of the pool. Seven could only murmur against Kathryn’s hair as she fought to regain her breath. But the feeling of her lover’s body against her gave her the strength she needed to take care of them both. Sweeping her arms beneath Kathryn’s legs, she lifted the smaller woman and rose, climbing the steps of the pool. Gently, she set Kathryn back on her feet and reached for the towels set nearby. It was only moments until both women were nestled into a featherbed of down and covered by a thick woven blanket.

Seven could not stop kissing Kathryn. There was so much she wanted to tell her, but she simply could not refrain from drinking in the sweetness of her lover’s lips. And Kathryn appeared to feel the same. It seemed like hours before they had touched enough, kissed enough, breathed “I love you” enough to relax and just gaze at one another, content in the warmth of their bed and secure in each other’s arms.

“What are we going to do when we get back to Voyager?” murmured Kathryn.

“Shall I move into your quarters or would you like to move into the Cargo Bay with me?” asked Seven with a small smile.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Kathryn smiled in return, “I’m serious. There are considerations about informing the crew that need to be…”

Seven silenced her with a kiss. When they broke apart Seven told her lover what the others from Voyager had not. “Kathryn, when we return to Voyager the crew will already know. If I successfully rescued you then I am your heart’s true love. That was the condition of Q’s…test. So informing the crew will not be a problem. We need only decide if we wish to remain together when we return to the ship. Do you wish to remain with me, Kathryn?”

“There is nothing in this universe I wish more, my darling.” With a wicked grin she continued, “That being settled, how long do you think it will take for B’Elanna to move an alcove into my quarters?”

Seven responded by rolling Kathryn beneath her and kissing her way down that elegant neck. When her lips reached an already-puckering nipple, she blew on it softly and smiled at the resulting gasp. She slowly dragged her tongue over the stiff peak and, drawing it into her mouth murmured “Not long, my Kathryn. Not long at all.” Janeway could only moan in reply and clasp Seven more tightly to her as the hot lips captured her breast. Unconsciously, she wrapped her legs around Seven’s waist and gasped. The biometric material of Seven’s abdominal implant rubbed against her swollen sex and Janeway panted as a rush of moisture from her center smeared across the heated mesh. Her hips began to rock, rubbing her sex against Seven’s belly as her lover’s hands swept down her sides and cupped her buttocks.

Seven began to match her thrusts, forcing more contact against Kathryn’s dripping center. Her mouth sucked Kathryn’s erect nipple harder, even as her teeth scraped its sides. Hands grasped her head and pulled her up into a passionate kiss. Kathryn’s tongue danced in her mouth as arms twined around her neck. They broke apart breathlessly and Seven kissed and licked her way along Kathryn’s jaw line to just below her ear. The arms tightened around her neck as her tongue licked that sensitive spot. Shd could feel Kathryn’s wetness coating her belly as the smaller woman’s hips writhed wildly against her. Heated breath against the shell of her ear nearly drove her out of her mind as that beloved voice, harsh with need, whispered to her.

“Oh God, yes, darling! I want…please…I…inside… now… please,…oh God, Seven, I need to feel…inside me…please!…”

Nearly out of her mind with want, Seven frantically kissed her way down Janeway’s belly, spread her legs even wider and locked her mouth over the pulsing nodule at her lover’s core. Kathryn sobbed and clutched Seven’s head hard against her as stiffened fingers drove up into her. Seven began a steady thrusting motion that Kathryn’s hips matched in a frenzy, her breath becoming gasps as her passion rose. Her hips thrust wildly and she stilled for a split second before a scream burst from her as the convulsive spasms of orgasm swept her away.

As the walls of Kathryn’s sex clenched around her fingers, Seven curled them slightly, feeling for the smooth patch up inside that velvet sheath. When she found it, Kathryn gave out a sobbing moan and her hips began to rock yet again. Seven thrust against it again and again as her lips and tongue drove Janeway to the pinnacle of pleasure once more. This time, Janeway collapsed sobbing and spent as the spasms subsided.

Seven kissed her way back up Janeway’s body and wrapped her arms around the weeping woman. She couldn’t control the trembling in her limbs, so great was her need. Kathryn seemed to sense this and even as she tried to catch her own breath again, she swept a hand across Seven’s chest to claim a breast. Seven’s harsh intake of breath told Janeway all she needed to know, and after a moment she ran the hand down to cup between her partner’s legs.

“Lay your leg over my hip, darling,” she whispered as her fingers sought the source of the abundant moisture. Seven could only cry out in pleasure as the fingers found her throbbing center and rubbed gently. Seconds later she felt the orgasm crash through her, her belly clenching as the waves of ecstacy rolled. She could do nothing but pull Kathryn closer against her as she attempted to pull herself together. The lovers drowsed together, kissing softly and gently caressing each other while they recovered.

“Kathryn?”

“Hmmm? What is it, love?”

“I believe we should ask B’Elanna to install additional sound proofing in your – our quarters.”

A soft chuckle vibrated against her throat. “Why is that?”

“It would be unkind to make Chakotay listen to the sounds of our lovemaking every night. It will be bad enough that the entire crew will know that he deluded himself about you. Forcing him to listen to our passion would be cruel.”

“What makes you so sure he’ll hear us?”

“Because neither of us was quiet and I have no desire to restrain myself when you touch me. He will hear us.”

“Alright, my darling. Move an alcove and install sound proofing. Got it. B’Elanna will be busy when we get back.”

“That will not stop her teasing us.”

Again the soft chuckle rumbled against her neck.

“No, it won’t. Oh well.” Soft lips pressed the pulse point in her throat and a small hand slipped down her side and began to brush through the wiry hair at the juncture of her legs. “Now, we have better things to do than talk about Chakotay or B’Elanna, don’t we?”

“Yes, Kathryn…”

* * * * *

The next morning All the visitors gathered in the courtyard to take their leave. Guinevere was traveling to the convent at Amesbury with a contingent of religious women and King’s guards. Bors and Lionel were to begin their long, sad journey to lay Lancelot to rest at his childhood home. The Voyager crew suspected they would be shown to a beam-out site. But nobody was eager to begin their respective journeys. The Queen took Janeway and Seven aside for a few quiet moments.

Reaching out to touch Seven’s face she whispered, “So like him and yet so different. Thank you for my life, Seven of Nine. Thank you for your honor and your kindness to my love.”

“His last thoughts were of you, Highness. He swore us to defend you with our lives. Know that above all else.”

“I thank you for that, Seven. And you, Kathryn? Are the demons gone? Have you found what you sought?”

“I have, Your Highness. For the first time in my life I feel complete. Thank you for showing me how foolish I’ve been.”

“If that is true, then I leave in joy knowing you will be happy together.” Laying her hands on both their heads she murmured, “Godspeed Kathryn and Seven. May your journeys together be happy ones and may you find the home of your hearts at last.”

With that, she turned and mounted her horse. Sketching a small wave at the Lady of the Lake the party headed for the lakeshore and their return to the mortal world.

Taking leave of Bors and Lionel wasn’t easier. Both knights spoke gruffly but both swore to come to Seven’s aid if ever she needed them. She smiled and returned the favor. In minutes they too had vanished in the lakeside mists.

Now the Voyager crew faced the Lady of the Lake alone. “You have fought against evil and vanquished it. Your honor does you proud. Never forget the power of loyalty and the bonds it creates and you will fare well on your journey. Remember the effects evil brings and strive always to treat others with the courtesy you have shown here. Be brave and forthright and you will find your way home. Go in peace, faithful travelers.” She raised her hand and the Voyager crew disappeared in the sparkling blue ions of their transporter beam.

* * * * *

_**Later that night in the Q continuum…** _

“What are you watching, dearest?” Mrs Q walked into the video room as Q fumbled with the remote.

“Just checking up on Kathy and Seven. They’re home safe and sound and back on their way to the Alpha quadrant. The crew seems delighted with the change in their relationship. And I was thinking we could help them just a bit more if you’re agreeable.”

Mrs. Q knew her spouse too well to be fooled by his innocent words. She took the remote and hit the ‘REPLAY’ button. A starlit scene of Seven and Janeway asleep in each other’s arms in Voyager’s captain’s quarters filled the screen. Turning it off she swung on her spouse.

“That seems less like ‘checking up on’ and more like ‘spying on’ those two. Enough! You’ll have to satisfy your voyeuristic tendencies elsewhere. We owed them for what the did for Junior and we got them together. The rest is up to them. Leave it alone.”

“But my dear, you haven’t seen what I was thinking of. Here, let me show you.” He took the remote and hit ‘PLAY” and the scene began to scroll across their screen…

_Voyager's Triumphant Return_

_Antimatter fireworks light up the San Francisco night. The long-lost Federation starship USS Voyager, now returned from its 23 years of travel in the Delta Quadrant, buzzes the Golden Gate Bridge spanning San Francisco Bay, then climbs and twirls like a dancer among the fireworks. Huge, watching crowds cheer lustily._

But the whole thing is revealed to be recorded footage in a news transmission celebrating the tenth anniversary of Voyager's return. In her apartment, with lights off, Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway looks at the transmission. She has the computer end the transmission, and looks sadly out of her window, a dented coffee cup from Voyager sitting on a nearby table serving as a reminder of what happened during their long journey home. . .

“What do you think, my dear?”

“Oh please, Q. You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard! We can do better than that.”

The End….?


End file.
